Built for War
by DreamFluent
Summary: Romeo didn't know what to think, what to do... but yet he couldn't do anything for her. No one could. Oneshot. Rated T for character death.


**A/N: This is the first depressing fic I have ever written… I listened to Bright Eyes from Watership Down in order to actually write this… saddest song I could find. My lovebird who passed recently, ironically named Juliet, is the basis for this.**

It seemed to be an ordinary day for the Jolly Wrenches; nothing except the occasional patrol, which meant most of the planes were, for the most part, free to go about their business. Romeo had just gotten back from his shift of patrolling with Charlie, and as he touched down, he realized that Juliett had woken up much later than normal for her… she wasn't even on deck yet, and it was almost 8. It's not like he noticed everything to do with her… well, he did. He knew with all of his existence that it was the most ironic crush ever, but he'd almost become a stalker of the female F-18; he normally went out of his way to check on her and, even if she yelled at him, make sure she was okay. Lately, though, she'd become more docile, which made him think that either something was very wrong or she had gotten a boyfriend… the latter of which he doubted. He didn't even know what he'd found so enchanting about her… perhaps that he was Romeo and she was Juliett, literally, but he almost felt like it was more of an 'opposites attract' scenario… they could not be more different in their personalities, he knew, but that's what made her such a mystery to him

Heading below deck, he was going to get a can of oil when he felt something hit him in the wing. Of course, it was Foxtrot. "Romeo, oh Romeo," he taunted in a rather high-pitched voice, "I'm still asleep, Romeo! Come wake me up," he continued, batting his eyes at him, obviously mimicking the Juliet from the Shakespeare play... not the one they'd all grown to know.

"Aw, shut up," Romeo shot back, though keeping the oil, balancing it on his wing. Perhaps an offering would get her to tolerate him. "Why don't you go watch Frozen or something?"

Finally getting past Foxtrot, he stopped at the entrance to the girls' barracks… there were only three of them that shared it, but it was still a room of their own. He was a little jealous, he had to admit. He pushed open the door to find the plane he was looking for… shakily pulling a book off the shelf for some reason. She seemed out of sorts… she didn't even know he was there, and normally she had hearing like a fox. "Hey," he said, making her jump a little, but she wordlessly turned to look at him, "Brought ya somethin'," he added, pushing the oil over to her.

She looked at it, narrowing her eyes, "What's the game?" she asked suspiciously.

"No! Nothing!" he protested, but still keeping the even, gentle tone he always did, "Just thought you'd want it… it's eight-thirty and everyone's wondering where you are."

"And by everyone you mean you and a couple others?"

"…Yes."

"Exactly what I thought," she commented cynically, pushing the book with her wing off the shelf and onto the table, opening it up to a blank page. Although her movements were slower than normal, she moved with an urgency that permeated the room. She left the oil untouched.

"Aren't you gonna report for today?" he asked, confused as to why she didn't shove her way to the door.

"I don't think so," Juliett said shortly, grabbing a pencil with her teeth and beginning to write, ignoring the other plane for the most part. She needed to write.

"Then WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Romeo begged, rolling further into the room and looking over her wing. She didn't block it from him, and he read in the most elegant of cursives, 'Last Will and Testament.' "How is this more important than…?" he asked, deciding then to firmly stay put. He was scared for her, and what he thought she was going to do. She was not staying alone if he could help it.

"I'm dying," she said simply, without a tear in her eye, "Had a condition for a while… oil doesn't filter right in me."

"Then why don't you go to a DOCTOR?!" Romeo asked, practically on the edge of hysterics.

"There's nothing they could do to fix it. They told me how much longer I had left and I decided to do what I love," she said simply, "I couldn't retire knowing I wouldn't come back here again… so I spent the rest of my days on the Flysenhower."

"I'm gonna go get help," he decided, heading for the door.

"No need. Romeo, you know me. Do I lie about stuff like this?"

He sighed shakily, "No."

"Then I need you to listen to me. If there's one thing I get annoyed at you for doing, it's listening, but I need you to do it now."

Romeo was silent. His eyes were stinging with tears, but Juliett's were unfeeling. He could see in her that she didn't have much longer left, even if she didn't look like it. The fire that normally lit up her eyes was fading.

"I've spent my whole life in the military, with you all… but none of you have ever met me. Don't read it when I'm around, but that book is my journal. Take it and remember me for who I am, not who I act like."

He couldn't believe it. He wasn't hearing what he thought he was. It was a dream, it had to be.

Juliett had gone back to her journal and flipped to the back cover, revealing more writing before closing it again. "That page is for you," she added simply, putting the book on the ground gently, leaving the will she was so intent on writing blank. She could feel herself giving out bit by bit, but she wasn't going down without a fight, even if she was destined to lose. Her engines, instead of their slightly off whirring noises, were sounding more congested by the minute… she'd asked for a break from patrols the past few days; she couldn't get enough power in them to even take off. She knew it was her air intake valves that were being blocked, but it was primarily affecting her engines and her voice, which had become much quieter than usual, though she could still chew someone out if needed. Once they sealed off completely, it would be over, she knew, but she kept calm… something she'd never allowed others to see in her was fear. That was not changing. Thinking back at her life, she realized what an excellent actor she was. She held her own all these years with Foxtrot, of all planes, in her squadron.

"Juliett, you can't do this," Romeo finally said, a tear running onto his nose, "You're one of the most brilliant fighters on this ship… we'll be lost without you."

"Your love of words always impressed me," she replied, copying his tone without thinking, "But we're not meant to love. F-18s are built for war. You can't be a lover and a fighter at the same time."

"But what about that crop duster that raced? He doesn't do what he was built for."

"Not like that. It wouldn't be _safe_ for us to fall in love," she corrected, her landing gear giving out from under her. Romeo tried to help her back up, but she refused, looking him in the eye with both pain and longing. She knew what she was trying to tell him, but she couldn't say it. Her engines were too far gone for her to take in enough air to get out more than a whisper now.

"Can I ask one question?" Romeo asked, still trying to get her up, but he couldn't no matter what he did. He didn't care that he was crying anymore… he was the only plane that could on the ship without getting teased too much. "One question, since I'm the only other one here."

"Yep."

He took a shaky breath, "It's ironic, but would you want to go out with me?"

Her eyes softened, though they were still full of pain, "Romeo…" she breathed, her eyes fading as they closed, unable to finish her sentence.

Romeo was sobbing now, gently putting down her wing before screaming into the hallway for help. He went back to the F-18, nudging her and trying to get her up. "Juliett… you can't do this. Please… you have to get up," he said between sobs. How could he have not seen? "Just come back… you're just sleeping, like the play… just like the play… you're gonna be late for your turn to patrol with India if you don't stop this… just… please… you have to… you have to come back," he said, nuzzling her desperately and trying to wake her. He saw a forklift enter the room urgently, but he didn't care. Not until more showed up, pushing him away from her only to confirm what had happened to her, draping a large cloth over the plane and solemnly taking her from the room, a cart having been moved in to put her on. Romeo couldn't even move out of anything but instinct. He attempted to get close to her again, sobbing, but he couldn't… there were too many forklifts throughout the room, but none of them even questioned him. Juliett was telling the truth… she'd spent her last days with her squadron, and she hadn't told anyone… maybe that's why she was so angry all the time.

He couldn't believe it. How could the great and strong Juliett have a secret like that? Romeo sniffed a little, not wanting to leave the girls' room… but he'd have to before someone found him and actually cared that he was there. He saw the book on the ground Juliett had said to take… all of her innermost thoughts and feelings… and she gave them to him. He choked up more as he stared at it, but worked up the courage to gently pick it up and put it on his wing, going back to the boys' barracks and putting it in his private storage box. He didn't know if he'd ever read it, but right now his eyes were too blurred up to read clearly. It had happened so fast. The other half of him was gone.

He slowly made his way back up on deck, where all of the other planes were, looking worriedly around to try and figure out what had happened. The announcement hadn't been made.

Bravo rolled up to Romeo, nudging him with a wing slightly. "What's wrong? Why were the ship alarms going off?" he asked, not used to not knowing… as the commander, he normally knew just about everything that happened on the ship… whether he was actually supposed to know or not was another story.

Romeo kept his nose down, a tear rolling down his nose where many others had just a little while before. "Juliett… she's gone… she said something about her oil filtration not being right and just..."

"Wait, you were in the room _with_ her? What were you doing there?"

"Bringing her a can of oil…"

"Why?"

"Because I fell in love with her, and I hoped that being kind would help her at least _like _me," he said outright, "And I don't care who knows it. I don't even care if you put on the play _Romeo and Juliet_ because of it. I don't… because it doesn't matter. The only reason why she was so mean to all of you was because she was scared you would hurt her if you had the chance."

"But then why was she so mean to _you_?" Foxtrot butted in.

"… I don't know."

* * *

><p>It'd been three days since Juliett had been taken from Romeo… he still wasn't himself, and only went on patrols when he had to. The funeral had just been the day before… it was raining on deck. Juliett was buried at sea, as she couldn't bring herself to leave it even to retire… it's what she would have wanted. He'd been made fun of, as predicted, for being the most devastated about her death… but gloom hung in the air. There was no one to match Foxtrot's antics, no one to prank anyone. For once, someone didn't end up covered in flour for being the first one up… mainly Echo.<p>

Romeo stared at the wall, in the spot in the room below deck he slept. The book she'd given him was still in his private box, which he hadn't touched since that day. He didn't have the courage. He wondered, though, what was written on the back page. He moved to it, flipping open the lid, the book sitting right on top. He looked at it for a minute, as if it were a museum piece. It was leather-bound, an intricate design on its borders; from the outside, it seemed the opposite of anything he thought Juliett was. That was probably the point. Taking a breath, he finally brought himself to open it, careful that no one rolled into the room while he was reading it. As Juliett had cryptically showed him in her final minutes, he flipped to the back cover.

_Romeo,_ she had written in elegant cursive, _If you're even reading this, I'm either dead or you're going to be. I just wanted to say I'm sorry for how I treated you while I was around. It was nothing personal; well, in all actuality it was. You were the one plane I couldn't get over… the plane everyone wanted me to be with, including myself. Except I couldn't. All fighter jets are built for war, no matter what we do we can't change it. Being both a lover and a fighter is impossible, and we can't control how we're built. Protecting the population is a strong directive, and it's our purpose to fulfill it, whether it's keeping the peace or making sure the enemy doesn't reach the mainland. Love is the opposite of this. This is why I could not love anyone. I am weak. Either I push everybody out or I let everybody in, and I couldn't figure out how to stay strong with the second option. I've been lying for too long._

_Romeo, I love you._


End file.
